And just like that… silence.

I’m not sure what I was expecting.

We make it down the block before I finally can’t take it anymore. I’m hanging out with Kimber Kyle, for Christ’s sake!

Fucking say something, you idiot.

“So...” I clear my throat. “What have you been up to?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” she asks, looking forward.

“Well, the last time I saw you, you were voted Most Likely to Be on Broadway,” I say. “I’m curious why you’re still here in Kansas.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “Yeah, I tried for a while, but...”

“It didn’t work out?”

“Big no,” she says. “I went to New York for a few years. Did a few off-off-off-Broadway shows.” She shakes her head. “Eventually ran out of money.”

“You came back?”

“Crawling,” she says with a little laugh. “I moved back in with my parents. The next day, I walked to the coffee shop in the town square, ordered a huge caramel latte, and cried into it for what seemed like hours. After a while, I looked up and a man was standing over me. Three months later, we were engaged.”

“Curtis VanHouten?” I ask.

She nods. “He was passing through the area on business for his dad, stopped in for a cup of coffee, and the rest is history.”

“Was he passing through my family’s farm, by chance?” I joke.

“Actually, yes.”

“Sounds like him.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard him and his father talk about your farm.” She glances at me. “Are you guys gonna sell?”

“It’s tempting, not gonna lie,” I answer. “But it’s a no, as long as my mother has anything to say about it.”

“Good.”

I look at her. “Good? I figured you’d be all for it.”

“Curtis’ business is his business,” she says. “Scott’s Dairy is a piece of my childhood, you know? I used to wake up every morning, sit down for my cereal, and the milk bottle always had your family’s logo on it.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“We all did.” She kicks a rock down the sidewalk. “And despite the many times I’ve told Curtis how much your farm means to this town, he’s still determined to make that sale. It’s actually the very reason why he moved out here in the first place.”

“He didn’t move here to be with you?”

“No.” She lets out a laugh. “His father was obsessed with it. And now so is he. Being with me was just… a bonus, I guess.”

I stand a little taller, suddenly feeling a burst of that family pride my mother gushes about. “Speaking of, where is hubby tonight?” I ask.

“Working.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“Every night,” she says, her voice low. “Like I said, he’s obsessed.”

I gawk at her. Why would a man work all day and night if he had a woman like Kimber at home?

We turn off onto the town square. I notice her pace slow down as a burst of laughter rises from the gazebo in the center. Just a bunch of kids playing around. I ease back with her and she slowly resumes her normal stride.

“What about you?” she asks. “Last time I saw you I figured you’d be the next milkman.”

“Yeah, everybody did,” I say. “It’s what my old man did. It’s what his old man did.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“It was. Still is,” I say with a nod. “I packed a bag and left.”

“To where?”

“Anywhere,” I answer. “I was just so sick of being Nate Scott. I wanted to go someplace where people didn’t know who I was, or where I came from, or every little detail of my life or my family.”

She nods. “I know what that’s like.”

“On one hand, I understand it. You have a name and a purpose. It’s right there. Built-in from birth. But on the other…”

“It’s built-in from birth,” she says.

“Exactly. It’s like I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” She glances at me. “It’s just the options usually wound up being damned if you do damned if you don’t.”

I nod, letting it sink in. “Yeah.”

We walk in silence down the street, the road quickly brightening as we move closer toward Lucky’s bar. The dark concrete lights up beneath the red and blue neon bulbs promising half-off wings and Ladies’ Night specials.

Kimber’s stride slows again and I get another close look at her face. She holds her breath with nearly-closed eyes as if the bright lights bother her. The large group hanging out at the entrance laugh out loud and she cringes, though I’m positive it has nothing to do with her.

“Hey,” I say, extending my arm. “Let’s have some fun, eh?”

She looks at my elbow, her smile inching up as she slowly hooks her arm with mine.

“Let’s have some fun,” she repeats.